


Take My Advice

by Anonymous



Series: Ocean Breeze and Vulnerability [Smut Collection] [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Artificial Intelligence Nanami Chiaki, Asphyxiation, Biting, Bottom Hinata Hajime, Consensual Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Everyone is recovering, Getting Together, Grinding, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, It gets Fluffy in the end, M/M, Medication, Mental Health Issues, Mutual Pining, Non-Consensual Kissing, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Spit As Lube, Top Komaeda Nagito, Violent Thoughts, but then it gets consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:00:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28829286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: (“I don’t want to be nice to you.”He expected some sort of reaction from him, then. Fear for his life. Anger at him for the audacity to bring something like this up. Possibly annoyed that he would bring this up so early. It was two in the morning and he showed none of those things.“Then don’t be.”)Or Komaeda gets advice from artificial intelligence. It goes in a way he didn't expect it to.
Relationships: Enoshima Junko & Komaeda Nagito, Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito, Komaeda Nagito & Nanami Chiaki
Series: Ocean Breeze and Vulnerability [Smut Collection] [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2159967
Comments: 20
Kudos: 180
Collections: Anonymous Fics





	Take My Advice

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing descriptive porn so here we are.
> 
> The beginning is a bit convoluted because I wrote this really late but it was good practice! I also like the Nanami AI idea and I barely see it so I put that in. The beginning builds up to the smut so we'll get there.

Paper planes used to be much easier to craft with two hands. 

Maybe finding another sort of paper would have made the task less of a chore, the thickness of it making it harder to fold and crease.

He shouldn’t be sitting alone at his desk, folding and tearing at documents and reports. He shouldn’t have stolen the keys to the office, being in the building past their designated time. He shouldn’t be off his medication and out of bed to begin with. And yet — 

He tossed one of the planes, one with a bent wing, towards where the trash bins lined up against the wall. It took a turn and hit the wall, falling to the ground with little grace. 

— here he was.

Mauve curls brushed against dull pink eyes, blankly staring at something,  _ someone. _ She wouldn’t be sure until they spoke, facial recognition was still being worked on. It would’ve been simpler to just be able to speak at will. That wasn’t installed either.

The chair squeaked as he went to retrieve the fallen plane, the notable curve of the pointed tip doing enough damage that it wasn’t going to be easy to fix. There would’ve been a much more liberating element to throwing the paper out the window rather than around the office space. It wouldn’t go crashing into walls and he wouldn’t have to see it again. That would beg the question  _ why do you make them if you would rather not see them? _ He doesn’t have an answer to that.

He stretched out the point with two stiff fingers — he would have to ask Soda to repair his hand — and place it into the bin, among the leaking coffee cups and shredded strips of unwanted articles. It didn’t make him feel any better, any  _ lighter _ , but it did a sufficient job at keeping him busy. It would be an improvement if he could continuously commit to doing this every night. To him, it was  _ far  _ greater than laying in bed awake.

Being off his medication would be no one’s recommendation but it was the equivalent to swallowing lumps of lead. He took them to see if he would choke, to see if anyone would care if he did. He  _ never  _ choked, bad luck on his part. 

(Saionji choked once. Komaeda wished the pill never resurfaced from her throat.) 

He dumped them down the drain now, two pills a day. If he  _ were  _ on it, he wouldn’t be in the right mindset to snag the keys when Naegi wasn’t looking. He wouldn’t be here, moping on the floor next to the metal garbage cans. He wouldn’t be staring at the small pixels that made up the face of a 17-year-old girl, trapped in the confinement of a metal box. She was waiting and she would  _ always  _ be waiting. 

The conversation would always start with a “hello.” 

Her expression would go from tired and lazy-looking to tired and  _ confused _ . Not because she was concerned about him being here at 12 at night, she wasn’t sentient. It was because he wasn’t supposed to  _ be _ there in the dead of night. That’s how she was programmed to think. 

“Hello, Komaeda-san.” 

It wasn’t her voice. It was soft-spoken and almost soothing in a way if it weren’t for the faint whirring that echoed from behind the screen. He never addressed her by her name because this  _ wasn’t _ her.

“Is there something wrong?”

Her voice rang with sincerity, it sounded so  _ genuine _ . He knew it wasn’t real but it would make things so much better if it was. 

“Just making paper planes,” was his answer. He let out a little scoff, quickly covering it up with a low chuckle but she wouldn’t be able to tell it was pseudo laughter. “But I can’t seem to get these to fly right.”

“That  _ does  _ seem like a struggle." There was no point in being empathetic, she didn't even have functioning limbs to pick up a pencil. "Ever tried doing a different form of origami to pass the time?”

_ It wouldn’t have the same effect. _

“I’ve tried to pick up sketching,” he said instead. “Peko-san had recommended that as a sort of therapy.”

“Peko-san…” There were a few beeps, a couple of clicks. An “ah” followed shortly after, recalling a _Pekoyama_ Peko somewhere in the index. It was _Kuzuryuu_ Peko now but there was never any time to officiate that. They still addressed her as Pekoyama. If she didn’t like being labeled as such, she hadn’t said anything about it.

“Right.” He picked at the scabs forming at the corner of his nails, blood welling into the cuts when he pulled back the skin a bit too far. “Yeah.”

It would be nice if she could talk without being prompted. Or talk like a normal teenager. Anything would be better than the situation she was in but at least she didn’t realize exactly  _ what  _ the situation was. For all she knew, this was normal.

“I’m going through the check-ins and there was no need to be here, Komaeda-san.” 

In other words,  _ why are you here? _

He could be doing the same thing in his room, ripping up pieces of colored papers and tossing folded paper only to watch them take a dip and land where he hadn’t designated it to. None of them ever met their destination and he never expected them to.  The walls were thin in their apartment complex, it was the best the Future Foundation could do in their circumstances. It wasn’t as liberating to be doing arts and crafts when he could hear Mioda bashing at drums to drown out the sound of choked sobs. Making paper airplanes was much more serene when he knew no one else would be there to disturb them.  _ Him. _

“I’m not tired.” 

“I see…” She glanced down, a gesture that meant nothing other than that she was calculating a better response. “Would you like recommendations to help you rest better? It could help...maybe.”   
  


“If it means that I won’t wake up,” he told her. He was only  _ half- _ joking.

Another moment of silence, another array of breedle until she looked back up at him. Her stare was so different compared to everyone else’s; even when she gave him a smile, her eyes stayed blank. That matter never irked anyone else, they seemed to converse with her more than they spoke with him. It was understandable, speaking with a computer would be more favored than talking with detritus such as himself. Even  _ he  _ preferred her over himself. Though, apparently there was some glitch they were trying to fix so things have been pretty quiet around her. It made it easier to talk when no one else would pass by them but as if they would concern themselves to begin with.

“Chemically induced comas often use propofol, pentobarbital, and thiopental to ensure the patient doesn’t wake up. It’s used in instances where healing is often too painful for the individual to endure awake, though some people use it to help quicken the process of recovery. Eventually, the drugs will wear off in a few days to a week, depending on how much of the medication is injected. Is that the answer you were looking for?”

Knowing she wouldn’t be able to respond if he didn’t speak, he chose to let the air answer her question. The blood seeping into his welts slowly pooled over his nail and he smudged it a bit, coating most of it crimson. He hoped it would have triggered something, inducing some sort of condition. In the beginning, it was the smallest things that had Komaeda spiraling and begging for his throat to open back up and let him  _ breathe.  _ Red nails would be one of those things, staring too long at the scars around his neck would be another. His mind had now become aware of his antics and played less and less into his larks. Because  _ she _ was gone already. There was no need to fuss about what  _ she  _ did to everyone, to him, to the girl staring through the computer screen and seeing nothing but a slate of zeros and ones.

He would just press himself to the shaggy rug in his room, the smell of bleach  _ far  _ too pronounced and he knew  _ far  _ too well  _ why _ . And he would absolutely let the ground swallow him whole if someone would just stop pulling him off the floor and helping him recover. It’s not like he was  _ looking  _ to pass but if the reaper offered his hand, Komaeda really had no choice but to take it. The hand that carried him instead was soft despite the labor it endured and tan despite it being cloudy as an everyday forecast.

He always did as he was told, Komaeda sat back and watched. Not admirably, moreso he found it ridiculous how some could be so  _ selfless  _ and  _ veritable  _ and  _ canny  _ and  _ modest  _ without looking for something in return. He was none of those things and they both knew that. But he was nice to Komaeda so Komaeda had to be nice back. Komaeda wasn’t good at being nice but he tried.

“Can you...bring up the profile of Hinata Hajime?”

Phrasing it as a question made no difference. She nodded and within a few seconds, heterochromic eyes gazed at him rather than vacant ones. Hinata was still a bit less than a year younger than himself but, standing side by side, Hinata’s youthfulness was much more apparent. He smiled a lot more now, it was odd at first but now it would be worse if they caught him being moody. Which, to Komaeda's luck, always seemed to happen when he was around.

Hinata didn't smile at  _ him. _ Walking into the office a bit earlier than everyone else, he greeted everyone with a grin.  _ Everyone _ . He wasn't special but his beam would fade ever so slightly when Komaeda walked in. He knew this and Komaeda knew this. And they both  _ knew _ it wasn't because he favored him less than his peers.

"What do you think of Hinata-kun?"

Even when asked opinions, her responses weren't hers. It was the same thing everyone else says about him:  _ “he’s humble”, “he’s super-duper smart”, “he’s reliable.” _

“...he’s strong, I think.”

Forcing his head up, the picture was gone and she was staring at him again. They added her little verbal quirks to make her seem more relatable but it just made Komaeda feel heavy. The guilt didn’t sit in his heart, it sat in his mind and rolled around in circles, forcing him to remember how she ended up this way. He didn’t like this version, this  _ replica,  _ but he continued to sit by it. It was slowly killing him but being near something remotely close to her being made it easier to die from.

(He hoped his dementia would kill him first.)

“Physically strong? Or mentally?”

“I was...going more towards mentally,” she confirmed. “He has been through a lot, the documentation shows as much. It’s much a surprise to any outsider how he’s able to get around...but that’s just what I think... His measurements would tell he’s physically strong, too.”

He almost laughed at the last remark.  _ Almost. _

“Yeah, he is strong in that sense. I thought--”

“Though, it wouldn’t be that hard to break him.”

Komaeda’s words came to a halt at her remark. Morbid jokes were something everyone was accustomed to here, whether they liked them or not. But this joke wasn’t funny. 

“...what... does that  _ mean _ ?”

“It  _ means _ …” She paused, humming in a frequency similar to the sound of a muffled alarm. “People...are all like that metaphor of a bottle. Pour too much in and it overflows? I think...he might just be about there, at the brink.”

The air had gotten dense, heavy enough to break. If it didn’t break, the way she continued to look at him made him feel as if  _ he  _ would. He felt himself curl towards the trash bins, as if that would hide him. There was no point, it’s not like she could see.

“What makes you think that?” 

“His patience,” she answered immediately. “His will to please. He...piles things up on himself, I suppose. From what the records show, he takes a larger load than everyone else: immaculate reports, files studied and filtered through, extra hours written in the check-ins. Does much more than he can take and he pays for it with how little he gets in return...at least, that’s what I’m  _ getting _ .”

_ No _ , he wanted to say.  _ You’re right. _

Very few times does Komaeda ever catch Hinata walking back into his own room, always being the first in the office. He had his own spare key to the building but he would surely know if Komaeda had taken it, grabbing Naegi’s was the safer option. He had contemplated at times if Hinata even slept or if he should be required to go on medication. It was when he was found resting his head on the counter top in the canteen that he put the pieces together.

He didn’t know how long this had been going on but it was the first time in a while he had seen Hinata so peaceful. It was much more satisfying to see him without that posed smile of his, not that he  _ didn’t  _ like seeing the others happy. It was those points in time where he didn’t seem to be as prodigious as the title they bestowed upon him claimed. Sleep left him vulnerable, however, and how exposed he left himself left Komaeda’s mind to wander.

It turned out that he had been taking melatonin, making him more lethargic when taken at certain times of the day. So it explained why he didn’t so much as shift when their lips met. It was a chaste kiss, the first one, to see if Hinata would wake up. He didn’t stir so Komaeda carried on. His lips had reached the base of his neck when he heard the pitter-patter of high tops, followed by a rattle of a couple of chestnuts.

Utsugi stayed quiet for a moment, the young teen’s eyes shifting between the two of them. The dim lighting highlighted the tears pooling in her eyes and Hinata finally woke up when her grip went weak and the bowl fell to the ground, her late night snack scattering across the floor. 

Hinata never confronted him. 

“Will to please?”

She nodded, something dark dancing behind the screen, blocked from the gleam of the incandescent light bulbs. “You don’t agree? He doesn’t have to do his best with every assignment, yet he does. He wants to be relied on.”   
  


“I don’t see what he would get out of that,” Komaeda told her, gathering his wits and moving towards the desk, seating himself a bit out of view of the computer. “That would be more work on his part.”

“That’s what he’s looking for. That’s--” There was another series of beeps, a slight but audible blip in the audio. “--what he wants. Poor man was alone most of his life, he didn't want to lose that.”

_ So was I, _ he wanted to rebut.

“And you’re doing the same thing.”

The draft passing through the window did little to cool him down, only making his heart race with vigor. Maybe it was him being weary but the statement made him indignant. He didn’t need to hear this from  _ her. _

“What  _ exactly  _ makes you say that?” He didn’t mean to make it sound so dry but his drowsiness made him care less.

_ What would you know? It’s not like you remember. _

The girl’s eyes widened momentarily, resembling an expression she shouldn’t be able to have. They only started working on the AI a few weeks ago, everything is not spick-and-span with how the programming was going. Things would’ve been simpler with the Ultimate Programmer still around but they made due with Hinata and Soda working on the project together. They were still adding things in, making it seem more like  _ her. _ Komaeda didn’t understand the desperation to bring her back but it lit some fire in his former schoolmates so he couldn’t say much. After all, He was the one who broke into the office, talking to her when they weren’t supposed to. They said there was something wrong with the coding and there was something wrong with  _ him _ .

“You’re the one asking me questions about Hinata. I think it’s crystal where I’m coming from.”

“He’s dependent on others, I’m not as pathetic as to break my back for them as he does without knowing what it’s worth.”

“But you’d want him to bend his back for you, wouldn’t you?”

Crude comments coming from  _ her  _ mouth left Komaeda silent. She said it with such a deadpan expression that he almost believed  — 

“Do you...do you think he  _ would _ ?”

— that he  _ did _ want that.

“He’s a people-pleaser,” she stated. “He would do a  _ lot. _ If he’s anything like he was in the past, he would  _ absolutely  _ do what was asked of him.”

The reference to his past was a vague description but Komaeda quickly caught to the direction she was pulling the conversation. Those days where his hair acted as a veil to cover his eyes, painted red. That man could’ve had everything but he ended up with nothing in the end. And he continued to follow him, knowing he wouldn’t do anything about the chaos that engulfed the world, letting the pull of the chain guide him.

(He did and didn’t regret that decision.)

His hands instinctively reached up to his neck, the rubbery texture of his scarred flesh resisting against the drag of his fingertips. Past days blurred in his mind but there was a consistency, a constant order, in how they went, making it easier to pick out the little details. 

_ She  _ shouldn’t be able to remember that.  _ She  _ wouldn’t say that about him.

“He would put his life and dignity on the line,” she continued. “Though, he isn’t an easy man to kill, there’s still a lot you can strip away from him and he’d still ask you if you want coffee in the morning.”

He was  _ obedient _ , if that was the right word to use. At the mention of it, Komaeda could recall certain events where he was eager to please. He had dug through the dust and dirt of the garden until he found Pekoyama's ring, being repaid in  _ thank you _ 's and welts scarring his palms. Kirigiri often strung him along whenever available, taking him to do tasks other than what the Future Foundation had assigned. He sometimes took charge of taking care of the younger children when they were struggling. That’s how Utsugi ended up spotting them that night. Hinata was supposed to help peel her chestnuts since Komaeda could barely handle making  _ paper planes _ .

"It's a little sad." She didn't sound very sad. "He would do things for someone like  _ you _ , a person who only brings him trouble. But I'm  _ sure _ that makes  _ you _ quite  _ happy _ ."

He didn't understand how that made him  _ happy _ . Hinata treated him just like everyone else, he wasn't content with that. Hinata wasn't content with that. It didn't help the both of them that he proceeded to drag this on, didn't bother to make any moves. It was always Komaeda, he needed to make the move. Because Hinata was too kind, it forced him to listen. He didn't want to listen anymore. 

"No, I don't know what makes you think that."

"Really?” It wasn’t a whispered voice anymore, it squeaked and trilled with an excitement that she shouldn’t be capable of having. “So you’re more into him denying you? You want him to fight you? I wouldn’t have pegged  _ you  _ for that type of man.”

“I’m just…” He was venting to a  _ robot. _ They don’t have any empathy, they had no experience with these struggles. It didn’t even sound like  _ her  _ anymore, the voice belonged to someone else. “I don’t want to be... _ kind. _ ”

“And you thought you were  _ kind  _ before?” She scoffed. “That’s funny, I would say you were  _ anything _ but nice to anyone here.”

“What have I been doing that would have you come to that conclusion?” 

Komaeda was well aware he wasn’t anyone’s first option to come and talk to as a pastime but he’s been  _ trying _ . He held his tongue when people of lesser value approached him, asking for and giving advice as to how to do simple paperwork. He didn’t argue when things didn’t go in a way benefiting his peers. He hasn’t pulled out anyone’s hair when anything before the Tragedy was mentioned. 

“You’re basically made up of falsehoods, lies, whatever you want to call them.” 

“Lies?”

“Do I really have to spell it out for you? You’re asking really junky questions, right now. You’re “kindness” isn’t really kindness. You said it yourself,  _ you don’t want to be kind _ , and I completely agree with that. Rather be shoved head first into the mud than to continue to deal with the facade you’re so  _ very _ eager to keep up.”

“You shouldn’t be  _ able _ to agree.” 

Anyone smart enough would know that they should have stopped talking to her  _ long _ ago. Behind the pattern of pink and white pixels laid bouts and layers of black and red. They had done a suitable job at making it look just as she did in the class photos, always carrying a soft glow wherever she went. He was almost tricked into calling her  _ Nanami-san _ a few times but this wasn’t her. And bits of what made her were being chipped away the more he dragged this conversation. He could practically see the red nails tapping at the wooden desk, overtaking most of what made this AI  _ Nanami _ . 

“Simple answer: don’t be kind,” she advised, ignoring Komaeda’s statement. “I’m  _ sure _ he’ll indulge in your urges if you don’t give him a  _ choice _ .”

“That’s disgusting.” 

“It  _ is _ , isn’t it?”

Komaeda was too weak to be able to force his decisions onto anyone, it was something he had come to accept. Even the more good-natured souls, Naegi would be his pick, are deterred by his philosophies so it was clear he would get through to no one. Using a more forceful method would be the better move if he wasn’t so untenable, so  _ demented. _

Would it work better if he was more intimidating? More straightforward?

If he were stronger, would Hinata resist? He could ask but he wasn’t about to  _ break his back _ for him. No, that was Hinata’s job. If he wanted it, Komaeda wasn’t going to just  _ give _ it to him. He would make him beg before anything. He wouldn’t be kind, he was sick of being kind to him. Maybe his mind would change once Komaeda told him the truth, that he was as insignificant as the dirt in the floorboards, and he would walk away. 

(And if he stayed, maybe Komaeda would show some mercy.)

“You know, I came here to talk to...Nanami-san. I didn’t come here to talk to  _ you. _ ”

There was no response.

It was when he heard panicked voices and stomping around that Komaeda knew he had overstayed his time. Rather than getting up from his seat, he strained his metal phalanges to pick up another report and folded it in half. He had spent hours trying to perfect even  _ one _ plane, might as well try until they get here.

The voices became more clear and it was Naegi’s voice he heard first. “The door’s open?!”

“Calm down, Makoto.”

Kirigiri stepped into the office, immediately spotting Komaeda’s tall figure seated at the far end of the room. He had gotten a bit taller since receiving treatment for his illnesses, tipping at about 6 feet. He wasn’t as skinny either, working out with Nidai had really paid off for him. She would say she was proud if it weren’t for the fact he had broken in the office and was speaking with the AI, under no jurisdiction. 

“Komaeda-san,” she called out. “It’s 2 in the morning.” 

“I’m well aware of that,” he told her. “Though, I’m only here because someone forgot their keys and I was just watching over them until they came back.”

“My keys,” Naegi interjected, walking past Kirigiri and to Komaeda. The man dangled the objects from its ring, dropping it into Naegi’s palm. Relief physically took over him, his shoulders slumping and his eyelids drooping, probably from being too stressed to sleep. “Ah, thank you. You could’ve just dropped them off at my place, though. You didn’t have to go through the trouble of waiting.”

“I didn’t mind,” Komaeda spoke, pointing at the screen of the computer. “I was just talking to her.”

The screen had gone completely white,  _ her  _ being nowhere in sight. Kirigiri moved forward, taking control of the mouse and clicking at the icons at the bottom of the screen. Nothing. She didn’t respond.

“This is why we didn’t want anyone talking to Nanami-san,” she groaned. “Hinata and Soda were trying to use the AI Enoshima installed in the NEO program to develop  _ this _ AI. It was to make her more lively, more realistic. Enoshima’s AI has completely diabled Nanami’s features because you kept talking to her.”

Yes, Komaeda had caught onto that a while back. “I’m sorry.”   
  


“It’s completely fine!” Naegi nudged Kirigiri who continued to frown. “We understand, just stay away from her from now on. Did she say anything weird?”

_ Yes _ . 

“No.”

“Aha, good. Don’t let anything she  _ did _ say get to your head.” He reached over and pulled out the plug from the back of the device. “I need to sleep now, you should too! Thank you for finding the keys.”   
  
Komaeda smiled. “It was no issue.”

_

There was still blood staining his thumb when he walked back into the residence. 

He was tired.  _ Exhausted.  _ But the conversation kept spurring through his thoughts and he couldn’t help but dig his fingers back into the cuts bordering his nail.

It was so easy to hate her but it was just as easy for her to wrap her finger around him. His mind really had gotten too good at adapting to what used to trigger him, he would’ve been on the floor weeping by the time Naegi and Kirigiri walked in. But it surely hadn’t come to understand that everything that came out of that vile woman’s mouth was just lies and deceit. 

So he found himself standing in front of Hinata’s door rather than his own. He was not asleep, Komaeda knew that. It didn’t bother him to keep the knocking quiet, he thudded his fist on the door loudly, the weak wood almost being pushed out of the frame.

The door was quick to open up and reveal his disheveled hair paired with a displeased look on his face. He quickly wiped the expression away when he stared into the man’s grey irises, showing just as much displeasure.

“Are you willing to spare a few minutes?”

Hinata ran a hand through his hair, looking back into his room. It was a mess, papers and files scrawled across his desk, some making their way to the foot of his bed. He wasn’t as anal-retentive with his room as he was with his work but it wasn’t as if he was expecting anyone to stop by so early in the morning anyways. 

Komaeda let himself in, not so much examining the room as he was registering what exactly brought him here. His windows were tall, ceiling to floor, giving a clear view of the streets below. The roads had been cleared out and it was often seen with the members of the foundation crossing the streets. He could press Hinata up against the glass and if anyone were to look up, it would be quite the display. Hinata would either be mortified or too far gone to care. But it was 2 in the morning, the streets were empty. There would be no point in doing that...for  _ now _ .

“So what’s the reason you’re here so late?” 

“What’s going through your head right now, Hinata-kun?”

Hinata blinked, the mistiness in his eyes coming and going. He was clearly tired and he continued to push himself to stay awake. 

“I...is there something you’re looking for?

“There might be,” he sighed.

Hinata flopped onto his bed, letting Komaeda pick up a few papers off his swivel chair before seating himself there. Everyone had gotten much more comfortable with being around each other now that they knew they weren’t going to get murdered. “Well, you can go out and say it.”

“It’s not something you would typically say as a conversation starter, Hinata-kun.”

The brunet turned to face the man, furrowing his brows. “You want me to,  _ what _ , start a conversation at 2 in the morning?”

Komaeda responded with a small smile, anything but a friendly gesture. “How was your day?”

“Um,” he looked at the clock hanging from the wall. “Seeing as it is...  _ 2:43 _ in the  _ morning _ , not much happened today just  _ yet _ .”

“Just trying to be polite,” Komaeda mumbled, sorting through the piles of papers he had. Some of them were trading forms, ones that dealt with organizations scattered around the world so they could get resources. Hinata shouldn’t have to deal with foreign affairs, on top of everything else. 

“Quit being nice so early, no one likes that,” he moaned, flipping on his side.

“So you want me to be  _ mean _ to you?”

“Don’t put words into my mouth.”

“It’s just an inversion,” he countered. “A fair assumption.”

“Who would want someone to be  _ mean _ to them?” 

“I can think of a few people.”

“Then they’re fucking insane,” he yawned, stretching his amrs to reach for the bed post, a sliver of sunkissed skin showing from beneath his shirt. “Are we going somewhere with this?”

“I don’t want to come off as crude, is all.”

“You’re not going to come off as crude, Komaeda,” Hinata told him, draping an arm over his eyes. The need to sleep was bruning the back of his eyes but he hadn’t finished the report yet. He could wait a bit. “You really aren’t the least bit rude, in my opinion.”

“...is that so?”

“Yeah, you’re a pretty nice guy, Komaeda. More than you give yourself credit for.”

“But you just  _ said _ you didn’t want that.”

“Not so early in the morning,” he groaned. He was nice but he often got on Hinata’s nerves. He couldn’t blame the guy but he was awake with coffee and energy drinks as his blood.

“I don’t want to be nice to you.”

They both fell silent, the breeze picking up speed in the background. There were a couple of floorboard creaks and his chair was empty. Komaeda was in no way a predictable person, with his luck and behavior. That’s what drew most people back but Hinata wasn’t in the right mindset to push him away. But even if he was, he wasn’t going to.

Komaeda’s arms caged him, his wildly overgrown hair hanging over his eyes. Hinata felt like he should be running away, pushing him back, screaming, and throwing fists. He did neither of those things. His heart was pounding at his ribcage, the sound thumping in his ears. If he opened his mouth, surely Komaeda could hear it too. 

“What?”

“I don’t like being nice to you,” he repeated, louder. “You carry around that smile with you and you always let people push you around and I can’t help but pity you, Hinata-kun. So I’m nice to you since you’re nice to me and I’m honestly sick of it. I don’t want to be  _ nice _ anymore.”

He expected some sort of reaction from him, then. Fear for his life. Anger at him for the audacity to bring something like this up. Possibly annoyed that he would bring this up so early. It was two in the morning and he showed none of those things.

He had a blown expression, wide eyes and his mouth gaped open just slightly from the shock of the statement. There was a glint in those wide eyes, some sort of curiosity.

“Then don’t be.”

His mind went to what the AI had said about Hinata, how he was eager to please. “Do you understand what you’re saying?”

“I…” He glanced to the side, his brain trying to catch up to his mouth. There was clear confusion crossing his expression, trying to find the words. But it slowly twisted into a tired sort of look, something dark filling the void beneath his pupils. “...no. I think you should demonstrate.”

This wasn't what Komaeda was expecting. He wanted him to fight back a little, to resist. 

It didn’t matter once he leaned forward and took his bottom lip in between his teeth. Hinata’s hands wrung around the back of his neck, his thumbs brushing against the leathery ring of skin. The kiss was far too intimate for his liking but he let himself be swayed. It was slow but he could taste the blood running from Hinata’s lips at every nip and lick, the man beneath him responding in soft sighs and eagerly pushing forward.

Hinata was pliant, letting Komaeda do as he willed, and caressed the underside of his jaw as he pushed his tongue past Hinata’s lips. He raised his leg, blindly directing his knee just below Komaeda’s crotch and pressing. Komaeda only pushed harder into the kiss and,  _ fuck _ if he knew Hinata could make noises like that, he would’ve done this a long time ago. 

To Hinata’s pleasure (and Komaeda’s demise), Komaeda started rutting against his leg and gnarled as he felt the boy under him smile just a bit. He bit his lip again and Hinata swore he was eventually going to rip a chunk of it off if he kept it up. 

“Komaeda,” was the first thing he panted when they broke apart. Said man gazed down at Hinata’s flushed face, his lips plump and swollen, and was almost taken aback. It could be because he was pent up or he was just weak to pleasure. But  _ he  _ did this to him. 

He chanted his name, whispering it when their lips touched again. Komaeda pulled back and he relished as Hinata almost whined, glaring when the man above retreated. 

“Do you want this, Hinata-kun?”

Hinata pulled him down again, his hands firm around his neck but Komaeda slipped past his fingers before he had a chance. He felt trapped under his eyes but the feeling of Komaeda having control gave him goosebumps, he could relinquish it for the time being. “I wouldn’t be kissing you if I  _ didn’t _ .”

“I think you might just be doing it in the heat of the moment.”

Hinata almost dug his nails into the man’s throat. The man had been dancing around the problem, he  _ knew.  _ He  _ always _ knew and he never made a move. And  _ now _ he was saying that he didn’t want this?

“I beg to differ--!”

“Then beg.”

Warmth flooded his body at the statement and Komaeda knew he had done  _ something _ right when Hinata’s blown pupils gazed at him.

“Pl-- _please_ , Komaeda.”

“That’s not begging.”

He felt his throat closing up from embarrassment but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. “Komaeda, touch me, please. I--I do want this. You want this,  _ too _ . Do whatever you want, I swear, just  _ please _ .”

Komaeda wanted him to say more, to tell him he was as meaningless as the ground they walked on. To plead for hours till his voice was hoarse. To kneel down and lick his shoes.

(It was two in the morning, he wasn’t going to do that today.)

Hinata’s whole body violently shuddered when Komaeda gave him the mercy of palming him through his sweats, the thick layer of cloth doing nothing to hide the tent straining them. Rubbing his knee against him, Hinata could feel just how  _ endowed  _ Komaeda was and he quickened his pace until he felt him get hard, bringing one of his hands down from his neck to reach down towards his erection.

He didn’t expect such a shout, Komaeda gasping when Hinata undid the zipper of his pants and pulled them down in such a fluid motion fit for someone of his kind. And he didn’t realize how easy  _ he  _ was when Komaeda gave him the same treatment, shuffling quickly out of his pajamas and seeing the wet patch slowly growing on his boxers. If Komaeda was amused, his face didn’t show it. 

They were both worked up and they were both so mentally exhausted that Komaeda’s teasing had become less relentless and more just a sign of drowsiness. He pressed his thumb over the tip of Hinata's tip, the string of sheen tempting him. Hinata kicked uselessly at the sheets, burying his face into the mattress and leaving a wet patch of drool and stimulated tears on the covers.

“Unbelievable,” Komaeda muttered, nipping below his jawline and pressing himself against Hinata when his back threatened to bow. “I’ve done nothing and you’re already a  _ mess. _ ”

Hinata fucking  _ whimpered _ as he bucked into Komaeda’s fist. “I’m--It’s not my fault. I think I’m just pent up and I really need this--”

“I didn’t ask for reasoning.”

“Sorry,” he breathed, teary eyes blinking up at him. “Sorry, sorry. Don’t stop.”

Komaeda wasn’t planning to. He didn’t expect them to have anything for preparation, it would’ve been a smart move on his part to grab cooking oil from the kitchen. Instead, he settled for pressing two fingers from his left hand against Hinata’s tongue. 

The digits were heavy against his tongue, the cold titanium similar to the taste of crimson liquid but Hinata sucked. He didn’t do much to make a show but saliva dribbling down his chin and his tongue swirling around the fingers was enough to get Komaeda going. He shoved them deeper down his throat and Hinata choked, pulling his head back and heaving to gather air in his lungs. 

His other hand reached under and pulled up his shirt enough to reveal his tanned skin, freckles spotting his shoulders and chest. Scars from past events engraved his skin, a map of what had happened to him before. The AI was right about Hinata being well built, though the way he dressed definitely was  _ not  _ fair with hiding it all. He leaned down and licked over one of his nipples, feeling it  _ harden _ against his tongue. 

Hinata pushed up, goading Komaeda to move on and be faster. His free hand moved away from the man’s cock and his wet finger pulled at his other bud, Hinata’s breathing becoming more and more erratic. He wanted to see what would happen if he bit it, just for a reaction. Komaeda indulged, biting down harshly and he  _ whined. _ “ _ Holy _ shit.”

“Komaeda, move  _ on _ ,” he pleaded, on the verge of sobbing.

He wasn’t supposed to be nice, that was the point of this. Not being nice would mean to let Hinata suffer but Komaeda was also ready to move on.

“Hands and knees, Hinata-kun.” 

Once he got off him, Hinata was quick to follow orders and positioned himself. If this were any other situation, he would press kisses to the freckles spotting the sides of his hips because that was  _ adorable _ but that wasn’t the point of tonight. Maybe another time.

Komaeda pressed his fingers against the rim of his hole, pulling it open with his index and watching as it clenched around nothing. He was needy, it was a nice difference. Finally, he pushed a finger in and Komaeda reveled in how Hinata’s back bowed enough to break.

“ _ Oh!”  _ Komaeda pressed against his walls, pushing past the ring of muscles and feeling him get tighter the further he went. “Komaeda!”

He struggled to manage when Komaeda hand closed around the back of his neck and pushed him into the pillows, muffling his moans. The walls were too thin to be this loud. But Hinata only continued to get louder when he pushed in another digit and pushed them apart, scissoring him.

“Hinata, are you  _ really  _ about to wake everyone up?”

Komaeda ducked his head down, watching how the rim of Hinata’s hole pulled against his fingers. The smell of sex and sweat intoxiacted the air and he could only bring himself to watch for a small while longer before devling his tongue in. 

Saying Hinata screamed would be an  _ understatement. _

He let go of Hinata’s neck to pull his hole apart, letting his hips shift and jerk into Komaeda’s muscle. Every depraved squeak that came from his mouth only egged Komaeda on, pushing in harder, faster, deeper. Feeling him fall apart by his own hands was a wonder in itself and he was willing to drag this on till he begged and cried until the sun rose. If they had the time, he would leave him hard and wanting until he couldn’t speak.

His teeth tugged at his rim, fitting a third dry finger into him, and from the way he writhed and his thighs trembled, he wouldn’t be able to bear much more.

Pulling out, he placed a light kiss on his abused hole, an action that went unnoticed by Hinata. He gave himself a few needed tugs before lining up with the man’s entrance, feeling him greedily take in the head of his dick. He didn’t ask if he was okay, there was no need for remorse.

Hinata lifted his head and let out a throaty, wanton moan only to be cut short when Komaeda’s hand took its place right back against his nape. When he let out a tiny snort, Komaeda knew the volume was for show. He was trying to get Komaeda irritated and it was  _ working.  _ He didn’t take for Hinata to be that type of person but maybe that wasn’t the case. He wanted to see what  _ Komaeda _ would do.

He started pushing in and he could feel Hinata pulling away, the strain of the pressure too much to bear with spit as lube. His other hand just tugged at Hinata’s hip, dragging him back and forcing every inch of his cock inside him.

“Take it, Hinata,” he spoke, basically growling. “You’re going to take it and you’re not going to move away if you want to cum, too.”

Hinata would only snivel, mumbling affirmations under his breath.

Komaeda began to rock his hips, pulling out everything but the tip before squeezing back in. They wasted so much time waiting for the other, he felt a sinking feeling in his gut when he realized that he had heeded  _ her  _ advice.

He pressed his lips in between his shoulder blades, licking a sucking before digging his teeth into the skin. The impression would surely be left there for a good week. If he kept doing it, he wondered if it would scar.

Hinata could feel his breath being stolen with each gasp he took, Komaeda’s hand firm against his throat. It  _ burned _ , more than he thought it would, and his body unintentionally tried to move away but Komaeda only pulled him back. He should’ve expected as much but the merge of pain and pleasure made his mind too convoluted to think straight. 

He moved to place his hand against the one holding onto his waist, their fingers intertwining. “Komaeda, I’m  _ ah--! _ ”

Komaeda pressed against that bundle of nerves again and Hinata felt himself drifting away. “ _ There!  _ Oh,  _ please! _ ”

His eyes rolled back and he could barely keep his mouth from dropping open as he finally let go, white streaks painting his torso. He clamped  _ hard _ around his cock and Komaeda threw his head forward, a grunt leaving his throat. His thrusts began disorganized and Hinata could only struggle to deal with the pain when the overstimulation crept in. He gripped at the sheets, a futile attempt at directing his attention elsewhere and he full-out cried when Komaeda showed him mercy.

His rocking slowed, the burn only slightly there but enough to make Hinata’s toes curl. He hooked his legs across Komaeda’s calves, rubbing them to tell him he was fine. He didn’t think Komaeda cared enough but the sentiment was there.

Hinata shivered when he felt heat fill him up, enough that it leaked down his legs when Komaeda pulled out. He didn’t know if he would be able to move to clean himself off, his vision was darkening around the edges. Komaeda made that decision for him when his tongue dragged against his opening, obscene slurps and smacks almost enough to make him hard again. He wanted to beg for him to stop, the overstimulation was bearing him no good, but he was too tired to fight.

Cleaned up, Hinata’s hole was red and puffy, placing a kiss this time sent shockwaves through him.

“Are we…” Hinata started, his voice croaking. “...going to tell anyone about this?”   
  
Komaeda looked at the clock, _ 3:27 _ . “I don’t think we have to. You were loud enough to tell them all they need to know.”

“You’re an ass,” he whined, flipping over to clean up the mess he’d made of himself.

“The saying does go ‘ _ you are what you _ \--”

“ _ Don’t _ . Don’t you dare.”

Komaeda sighed, his mind too sluggish to come up with a rebuttal. “Just get some rest or whatever.”

“Can’t really do much with what just happened,” he explained, the bruises on his hips and neck telling him the rest. “So, yeah, I’ll go to bed.”

“Right…”

Komaeda collected his clothes off the ground and shuffled into them as Hinata proceeded to speak. “Why now?”

“Hmm?”

“Why at... _ 2 _ , well  _ 3  _ now, in the morning?” His laughter was strained. “I’ve dropped tons of hints, knowing you would catch on. If you wanted it, you would come for it but what was with the sudden revelation?”

Enoshima’s advice, Nanami’s voice, rang through his head. He didn’t want to listen to her but it got him where he wanted. Still, it wasn’t a good notion to tell Hinata about  _ that. _

“I don’t know,” was his answer.

“Maybe next time,” Hinata sighed, pulling his blankets over him.

Komaeda left the room in silence, making sure the lock sounded behind him. Mioda was peeking around the entry to her room, her eyes red but her mouth curved into a smile. 

“Did you--?”

“Sleep first, ask Hinata-kun later.”

That was all he needed to say to get her back inside, leaving Komaeda to get some rest himself. He was sure that he would eventually start making paper planes in his room from then on. He wasn’t going to touch that computer again. 

  
But he was surely going to touch Hinata again. There was  _ definitely _ going to be a next time.

**Author's Note:**

> I was considering leaving it where Komaeda left the office but all that talk about having some control over Hinata kind of just led to smut.  
> And I'm very disappointed in the lack of Top Komaeda/Bottom Hinata content in this community but the very few on this site are gold mines! I'll continue to add to the collection but with this mess I wrote, I'm not sure if I should,,
> 
> I left this anonymous since I kind of don't like how this turned out but go ahead and comment to tell me what you all think. And if you have any suggestions/requests for other fics with these two, I'm pretty open to everything!


End file.
